Exodus

Angel Sleep 6 16 15A life left behind on country roads
whose names grew from mere letters
to places to memories to triggers
Childhoods and adulthoods passing by
with each mile clicking
with each moment ticking

So much lived in an open-space world
kept simple by poverty and humility
through boom and bust of wood, coal, and gas
through boom and bust of love, hope, and faith
Outsiders and other fools lie when they claim that time
stands still there for it instead rages in torrents
energizing and eroding the body, mind, and soul

Exodus after so many decades of longing
and making the best and the better
than the prisons fears and failures created
I do not leave ashamed as I might have once
or so fearful that not even darkest night
could provide enough cover
I do not escape or avoid but instead
flow toward and fully embrace
a place only partially seen beyond the was

Passing through worlds
a thousand moments a mile
each flashing past in slow motion
past lives and deaths I’ve lived and died
like an snake eternally shedding
Miles and minutes only approximate
tears and smiles only convey triumph
of knowing exactly when to depart

I arrived there a man in a child’s body
departing here now a child in this man’s flesh
A multitude of my lives and deaths resting
in peace on country roads
sunsets and sunrises watching
storm and wind knowing
what they have written into my soul

© Copyright 2017 by John David Higham. All rights reserved.

Photo: Tree (Windfall, June 2016)

Deepest Night

img_3629-1-27-17-deepest-night

In the deepest night when the dark is darkest
The roar of the wind threatens to blow away the world
My dreams have been chased away by nightmares
The mouth made cold by words I cannot speak.

The eyes can only see the diabolical
The skin turns so brittle that even a butterfly’s touch
Makes it crumble
And dissolve into the desert sands.

I would be lost if I moved, but instead I freeze
Or worse, turn circles counterclockwise as I try twisting
Into the barren sheets in search of elusive sanctuary.

Waking alone, blue skies postponed and cancelled
Memories now prisons and plans now absurd fantasies
Flaming wreckage from all my tumbling castles
Obliterating the path and hindering my progress.

My house no longer a home in my empty bed
But still I rise and find that day, find that sunrise
That only I can see, that only I will celebrate.

May you never suffer my deepest night
The eternal strength it gives me
The optimism and hope growing stronger
After my every infinite sojourn through Hell
And re-emergence with soul and scars glowing.

© 2017 by John David Higham: All Rights Reserved
Photo: Desk (Windfall, PA: January 27, 2017)

The Day, Disappearing

img_1537-dec-17-16-pic-for-day-disappearing

How beautiful
It is
To just sit and watch
The
Day, disappearing.

On my path,
Solitude
Has always created
Such
Resonating serenity,
Even
When I was immersed
In the
Midst of hell.

How beautiful
It is
To just be
The
Day, disappearing.

 

© 2016 by John David Higham: All Rights Reserved

Photo: Saturday Becoming Night (Windfall, 12/17/16)